There on the corner of my bed, that poor old cat.
Stripes and a chort tabby coat.
When I first shut my eyes, he lay sleeping soundly there,
just as he used to, happily purring the day away.
When I woke up, gone.
It came slowly, but we knew.
No food, water,
he couldn't move.
We attempted nursing him back to health,
but he wouldn't eat the baby food,
of the mushed up medicine.
Monday morning, a fitting way to start a bad week.
Three B's in Chemistry, and a C in Algebra 2.
Dad buried him in the woods, but I don't know where.
I searched, but found nothing. So now there are two.
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